


Emotions Are Hard

by Sub_Zero_MKA



Series: Why Is Romance So Hard? [1]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Love is hard, Michelle sucks at expressing herself, Secret Crush, high school romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sub_Zero_MKA/pseuds/Sub_Zero_MKA
Summary: Five times Michelle's displays of affection for Peter backfired, and the one time it didn't.





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I officially enter myself into this ship. I don't normally do romance stories, but I can't help it with this one. This first story is based on a piece of fanart I saw on tumblr that was based on a tweet. So, props to whoever drew that piece.

_**Emotions Are Hard** _

 

**The Letter**

 

Michelle Jones had a big problem. One she had no idea how to even begin to know how to work through. It was radical feminists muddying the waters of intersectional feminism and setting women's rights back dozens of years. Those petty, me-first women who only cared about the rights of themselves and every woman who both looked like them and were of an equal or similar social status. Every other woman could get fucked as far as these frauds were concerned.

 

She also had another, equally confusing problem. Peter Parker.

 

See, Michelle _may_ have had a small, tiny crush of Peter. It wasn't like she was in love with him or anything stupid like that. She kind of liked him. She didn't even know why. He was a complete dork; him and his stupid friend, Ned Leeds. Peter was a dweeb, a nerd, a loser. Everything Michelle shouldn't have wanted anything to do with.

 

Yet, she did. She wanted to be near him and find out everything there was to know about him. Because that boy was a mystery. He was hiding something, and she wouldn't rest until she knew exactly what it was. She had a few hunches; none of them made sense.

 

Most normal girls would have subtly dropped hints to their crush that they liked them. A bat of the eyelashes here, a flirtatious wink or smile there, stuff like that. Stuff she had no idea how to do. When Michelle winked, the entire half of her face scrunched up, so it looked like she was having a stroke. Her smiles came across as either overtly mocking or incredibly disingenuous – like she was mocking whoever, but trying to be nice about it.

 

She could do subtle, no problem. When it came to this shit – romance and all that cliché shit – she was about as clueless as the rest of the sheep being herded through the halls of Midtown High.

 

It didn't help that she had trouble expressing her feelings in a productive manner. There was a reason she kept all that shit closed off.

 

In short, she like Peter Parker, but had no idea how to tell him. God forbid she just be up front and tell him bluntly. There was no way in hell _that_ would work.

 

Why couldn't it just be easy? Why couldn't she just tell Peter how she felt and be done with it?

 

_Wait. I'll just write him a letter. It doesn't even have to be signed._

 

How hadn't she thought of this before? It was so simple, she felt stupid even doing it.

 

They were in the middle of world history class, with the teacher droning on and on about that the Accords and how much of a fucking idiot Captain America was, so she felt safe taking some time to craft her literary masterpiece. When she was done and delivered this letter to Peter – in secret, obviously – there was no way he would doubt how she felt.

 

Of course, he wouldn't actually know it was her who wrote it, but one thing at a time.

 

_Okay. How should I word this. 'Peter, I really like you'? Nah, to elementary. 'Peter, I think you're cute'? Fuck no. He is really cute, though. No, MJ, stop. Focus. Okay. Um... shit._

 

She had no idea what to write. It couldn't have been as hard as she was making it out to be. The first one was the way to go, but she couldn't get her hand to start fucking writing it down. _Fuck me, I can't do it._ Was she actually physically incapable of expressing her feelings, even in a completely, totally anonymous letter that Peter wouldn't in any way possible know was from her?

 

Yes. Yes, she was.

 

_Unbelievable. Fuck it._

 

She clicked her pen open and wrote, _'Get out of my school,'_ and signed her name. Her head sunk. Why the fuck would she sign her goddamn name in an anonymous letter? _Get your shit together, MJ._

 

There was no point in delivering it in secret now. She folded it up into a paper airplane and, after waiting until Professor I-Like-To-Kiss-Stark's-Ass turned around before hurling it at Peter. She watched it sail through the air and poke him in the forehead. She watched him unfold and read it with bated breath. _Aw man, I hope it isn't too subtle for him._

 

He looked up at her, frowning and clearly confused.

 

_Shit! He's looking at me! Quick, act natural!_ She grinned and flipped him double birds.

 

Peter just sighed and shook his head.

 

He probably was too in shock to react any other way. Once it sunk in that Michelle Jones liked him, he'd react properly.

 

Proud of herself, she leaned back in her chair and opened the book that was sitting on the corner of her desk. _Fucking nailed it._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I appreciate that Michelle is a feminist, respect it really, but I also know that I know jack all about feminism. Everything I include about it in my stories, I'll have gotten from the internet. So, if I get some things wrong, please correct me, but don't jump on me. Thanks for reading.


	2. Debate Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle tries again. Michelle fails again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support, guys and gals. Keep it coming!

_**Debate Practice** _

 

Well, the letter was a bust.

 

> _Michelle was at her locker when she sensed someone standing behind her. To both her dismay and delight, it was Peter. It was clear that he had been thinking about the letter she sent him a few hours ago and wanted to talk about it. “Sup, dork?” she greeted in her usual manner. She needed to come off as normal, or else Peter would immediately sense that something was up._
> 
>  
> 
> _Of course, that was exactly what she should have wanted, for him to realize that this wasn't going to be a normal conversation between them._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Sup yourself. Are we passing notes in class now, MJ?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She shrugged. “Dunno. I just wanted you to know how I really felt.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Uh oh. That confused frown from before returned with a vengeance. “Wait, I thought we were friends.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Wait, what? “I gave you my nickname, didn't I?” The letter didn't leave him with very much to work with; and what little it did leave gave the impression that she didn't care for him enough to inhabit the same school together. Great. Great job, Michelle. She probably should have wrote another sentence or two, and not flipped him off._
> 
>  
> 
> _She just panicked. This shit was hard and she wasn't trying to mess up on her first try. Which was exactly what happened._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Well, yeah,” he answered, eyes trailing to the floor._
> 
>  
> 
> _He looked so conflicted. Normally, she would have laughed, but right then, she felt guilty. It was like she was sending him mixed messages or some shit. “Jeez, lighten up, Parker. It was a joke.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head before shutting her locker._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Oh. Oh, right! Yeah.” He laughed, but his cheeks were growing a light shade of red that Michelle didn't find cute in the slightest. “Well, I-I'll see you at practice after school.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Yep. Don't skip this time, or I will hunt you down.” Her eyes narrowed into her signature squint so he knew she was serious._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _I'll be there. I promise.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _There's an earnestness in his voice that immediately told her that he was telling the truth, that he really did want to be there. She knew that deep down, Peter wasn't intentionally a flake. He was too dependable when he was there. Which made him quitting, then rejoining the team last year, then skipping practice after practice all the more confusing. He was hiding something, and it annoyed her endlessly that she didn't know what it was yet._
> 
>  
> 
> _She was good at reading people, but Peter was like a statue – unreadable. It annoyed and intrigued her, and was part of the reason why she ~~had a crush~~ was interested in him. “Good. I'm gonna ride you pretty hard today. Just so you know.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _His face turned several shades of red that she didn't know were humanly possible. It was only then that she realized how what she said sounded. It sounded so okay in her head. Shit._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _I-I-I'm okay with that,” he stammered so meekly that she wanted to squeal and pinch his cute little cheeks like some forty year old aunt. And by that, she obviously meant do nothing of the sort. “With you riding me, I mean. At practice! Asking questions at practice! I-I'm okay with you asking...”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Did it get hot all of a sudden? Oh, it was just Michelle blushing furiously. Luckily, her skin was a tan color, so it wasn't so easily seen. Still, it was getting hard to stand straight without swooning. And it was definitely a struggle to keep her mind from wondering._
> 
>  
> 
> _They just stared at each other for a good ten seconds before she sighed. To release the blazing inferno that was building up in her face. “Get you mind out of the gutter, dweeb. You know what I meant.” With one final shake of her head, she walked to her next class._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _I'll be ready!” he called after her._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _We'll see about that!”_
> 
>  

And see about it they did. Michelle was the first one there, like most times – every other time, she only just got there before practice started. On purpose, to send a message. What that message was, she didn't know. Neither did the rest of the team, and that was the point. She was deep like that.

 

At no point during the rest of the school day did she fantasize about anything other than asking Peter tough questions at debate practice. Nope. Her mind steered completely clear of the gutter. It was odd, though, that the teachers all had the heat going on full blast. It was spring, so there was no reason. So weird.

 

Anyway, she spent the time she had to herself before the others started showing up to go over her questions and pick out the hardest ones to lay on Peter. She was going to drill him until he couldn't think straight.  _Christ._

 

“Sup, Michelle,” Flash greeted cockily as he walked inside.

 

This motherfucker. Popped collar, fuckboy haircut, and the smarmiest, smuggest smirk she had ever had the displeasure of gazing upon. Why couldn't he be like Peter? Peter wasn't a fuckboy by any means. He wore his collar down, like a normal person, and he didn't have his head shoved up his lower intestine.

 

Her eyes flicked up to acknowledge him, but she said nothing.

 

“Forgot how to speak?”

 

He was also too dumb to take a hint. How was he a part of the decathlon team again? “Nope. I chose not to.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

It wasn't long, thank god, before the others started to show up, including the man himself. She never noticed until now, but Peter walked with a certain swagger about him. It wasn't obnoxious, like Flash, but like he was confident in himself. It was kinda hot. Wait, no, not hot. Interesting. It was interesting. “Get over here, Parker.”

 

“You didn't even say it right,” he remarked with a growing grin as he stepped up to and sat down at his usual seat.

 

She just raised an eyebrow.

 

“You know... _**Get over here,**_ ” he rumbled, doing his best to make his voice all deep and raspy. It... was so... Damn it, it was cute. Also, incredibly stupid and nerdy and Michelle was struggling to keep a straight face. “You know... Scorpion? Mortal Kombat? Yellow guy with a chain spear?”

 

“Ah. This city was Russia's only open port that was usable year round during WWI.”

 

“Social science,” he sputtered, eyes slightly widened. That was, unarguably, his worse subject. Which was exactly why every question fell under that subject. Not because she wanted to embarrass him. That would have been completely counterproductive to her objective.

 

“Yep.”

 

He sighed tersely and tilted his head down to think. “Ah... crap... Vladivostok?”

 

She nodded, only because her brain was too preoccupied with how hot Peter sounded when he spoke Russian to form words. “Vladivostok couldn't handle Entente shipments during WWI for this reason?”

 

“Insufficient capacity on the trans-Siberian railway.”

 

“Russia could not use its Black Sea ports during WWI for this reason.”

 

“The ottomans controlled the Black Sea.”

 

“These two northern Russian ports lacked a railway system to transport supply shipments during WWI.”

 

“Uh... ah... Murmansk and... Angel?”

 

“Archangel.”

 

“Ah, right.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked somewhat cockily. Michelle decided it was kind of cute. Not very, but a little. “Come on, MJ. I thought you were going to grill me.”

 

“Cocky little shit, aren't you?” She shuffled through the cards some. Most of the questions were about Russia so she could hear him speak Russian frequently. But, it he wanted to get hard, she'd get hard.

 

_Again, Christ._

 

“Austria-Hungary's GDP per capita was this percentage of its 1913 level in 1918.”

 

His face went completely blank. “Uh... 64%”

 

“66. Galacia supplied this proportion of Austria-Hungary's grain before WWI.”

 

“One-third.”

 

They continued in this manner for the remainder of the practice. To his credit, Peter bounced back nicely after getting a few questions wrong. It was obviously he had been, not boning up, but studying in his free time. Good. “Alright, nerd, you're off the hook.”

 

“Awesome! That wasn't so bad.”

 

“Yeah.” Peter continued to ramble on about this, that, and the other with Ned. Something about putting together a new lego set or some equally as ridiculous. Even if they were standing within ten feet of Michelle, she wasn't listening. She was too busy contemplating on how to capitalize on this golden opportunity. The letter was a bust, yes, but she had been given a second chance. _Okay, MJ, don't fuck this up._

 

There were people around, so that severely limited her options. Not that she would have gone for something flashy and elaborate anyway. She decided on a good-natured jab to the shoulder. The kind that good buddies gave each other when they were joking around or some shit.

 

It was safe. There was no way Peter could interpret it as anything other than Michelle starting to warm up to him. It was so simple, there was no way she could fail.

 

So, of course she reared back and slugged him in the chest as hard as she could.

 

Peter wheezed and gawped at her as if she had just shot him with a shotgun. “Ow! What was that for?!”

 

She stared blankly, mostly because her brain was too busy wondering how she was _this_ awful at this to register the question. “Good job,” she said, completely deadpan.

 

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered as he and Ned filed out.

 

She could hear Flash barely managing to stifle his laughter. One glance shut him up. “Dismissed,” she announced tersely before gathering her things and stalking out.

 

There was a reason she never showed anyone any affection. She barely showed that she loved her parents, much less anyone else. This shit was hard. Pure and simple. She didn't know why the movies made it look so easy, but fuck the movies and fuck romance. She wasn't a quitter, though; not when these stupid feelings for Peter weren't going away any time soon. There had to be something she could do, something easy.

 

It was there, she just had to figure it out.

 

She didn't know, but she _did_ know that straight up telling him how she felt was the wrong way to go. There was absolutely no way possible that was going to end well.

 


	3. The WikiHow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The internet can't possibly lead our heroine astray! Right? Also, Michelle is totally sabotaging herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not replying last chapter. I've just been busy with work. I'll get those replies in later on. Also, I'm not sure if you guys have heard, but for those that haven't, we have a ship name. Spideychelle! Pass it on. Let your friends know.

_**The WikiHow** _

 

Michelle did the obvious thing – what she should have done at the very beginning – and googled how to tell Peter she liked him. Ah, Google; so useful and yet so very forgotten.

 

> _If you want to show that you are interested in someone, you need to show that person that you are interested in the things he or she says. Even minor details, like the name of a pet or a childhood phobia, should be recalled and dropped into conversation from time to time._
> 
>  

Too easy. She already did that and knew so much about him. And remembering that information was easy since she kept a detailed journal of everything she learned about Peter, and had since sixth grade.

 

She wasn't obsessed with him, just observant. And she needed to write those observations down. Obviously.

 

That done, she moved on to step two.

 

> _When you are with the apple of your eye, focus solely on that person and that person alone. Do not text other people or look around for other friends. Make sure that your full attention is on your crush._

 

The next day at lunch, she made sure to sit with Peter and Ned. She had been for the last several months, but she usually sat a few seats away to establish a buffer zone between them and her. In the past, she didn't want them to know that she kinda sorta saw them as friends. It wasn't until she was named decathlon team captain and declared that her friends called her MJ that she was okay with them knowing she saw them as such.

 

She sat across from Peter, even though she wanted to sit next to him. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt that was a little tight around his shoulders and biceps. It was hard not to keep her eyes on his arms, but she had to if she was going to stay focused on him.

 

On the other hand, his biceps were a part of him.

 

Wait, no. No. She had to focus on the right thing. And that was Peter, the person. He had to know and realize that her attention was completely and wholly on him and no one but him. Even when Ned was speaking to her, her eyes never left Peter. She rarely blinked. When she did, it was only for a second, then her rapt attention was back on the apple of her eye.

 

How stupid of a saying was that, by the way? Apple of her eye. What did that even mean? Like, what if she didn't like apples? She absolutely did – they were delicious and very nutritious – but, what if she didn't? Would she have to find some other fruit to substitute? Like, did orange of her eye make any more sense? No, that was even stupider.

 

What else was stupid? How beautiful Peter's eyes were. She never had the chance to notice, but now that she was being super observant and focused, she found herself being sucked into the endless blue expanse they—

 

“Michelle!”

 

The sudden shout tore her from her dreamy reverie. She found Ned, and more importantly, Peter staring back at her, completely aghast about something. “What?”

 

“Why are you staring at me?” he demanded, speaking slowly and enunciating each word so she could understand properly.

 

Well, shit. She might have misunderstood what the article meant by focusing on him and only him. It probably meant pay attention and not stare like a creepy stalker. “I wasn't?”

 

“You totally were, dude,” Ned argued. “Like, trying to stare into his soul.”

 

Peter looked at her expectantly. His gaze made her feel hot, but not in a good way.

 

She shrunk slightly and lowered her head. “My bad,” she mumbled.

 

He shook his head and got up, Ned close behind. “What the hell's her deal lately?” she heard him ask.

 

“Goddamn it.”

 

> _Find excuses to meet your crush's friends or close relatives. These are the people he or she loves. If you want to be among their ranks, you will need to demonstrate an interest in them, first._
> 
>  

Well, after the debacle at lunch, she wasn't so sure about this one. It needed to be done, but she wasn't sure how to go about doing it. The article said that she had to open up as many channels of communication as possible. The obvious way was to start texting with him. She had his number since she had every team member's number. A simple message to get the ball rolling.

 

**Me:** Hey

 

He was probably busy with homework or whatever nerdy shit he got himself involved in, so it was going to be a while before he responded. Realizing that, she busied herself with reading. It was an hour before her phone buzzed.

 

**Dweeb:** Yea?

 

She sighed.

 

**Me:** Just wanted to say sorry for being so weird lately. I'm just going through a lot of stuff right now.

 

**Dweeb:** What kinda stuff? R u ok?

 

**Me:** Yeah. Just female stuff.

 

That wasn't a complete lie. She was sure that there had been enough girls that had secret crushes on the biggest nerd at their respective school that it qualified as a female issue. Not to say that it didn't happen to guys, too. It did, but... whatever.

 

**Dweeb:** Gross

 

**Me:** You're gross

 

**Dweeb:** Ur face is gross

 

**Me:** Your face is grosser times infinity

 

**Dweeb:** +1

 

Damn it. Not only had she just engaged in the stupidest, most childish argument a person her age could even find herself involved in, but she also lost. Infinity plus one was _the_ trump card. It couldn't be beaten.

 

**Me:** I'm coming over tomorrow, just so you know.

 

**Dweeb:** Wat? Y?

 

She really hated texting grammar. It hurt her eyeballs.

 

**Me:** So I can meet that sexy aunt of yours ;-)

 

**Dweeb:** WTF?!?!

 

**Me:** A joke, dork. -_-

**Me:** But seriously. Expect me about 7 :-)

 

**Dweeb:** NOOOO! :o

 

**Dweeb:** Don't come over! I don't want you near my aunt!

 

**Dweeb:** MJ, I'M SERIOUS! ):-(

 

She was coming by, and there was nothing Peter could do or say to stop her. She spent the rest of the night reading over the rest of the article, finding steps she could do while at dinner with Peter and his aunt.

 

* * *

 

The next school day ticked by second by second. It didn't help that she had two quizzes and a test to worry about, on top of how she was going to approach the dinner that night. She didn't want to fuck it up like she had literally every other thing she had tried up to that point. And the last thing she wanted was to make a bad impression on his aunt. It was important that she like her if Michelle was going to get in with Peter.

 

Throughout the day, Peter kept trying to convince her to reconsider. Nope. She wasn't hearing it. “I'm coming over whether you like it or not, Parker,” she kept saying to him. Eventually, he gave up with a resigned sigh and a lackluster, “Okay. See you tonight”.

 

> _You do not need to dress up every time you see him or her, but as a general rule, put in a minimum amount of effort to look good. Showing that you care about how you look in front of this person will hint at the fact that you have a reason to care about such things._
> 
>  

When Michelle got home later that day, she immediately got to work with making herself look presentable. The problem was, she gave no shits about her appearance. Like, her clothes were clean and she bathed on the daily, but she really didn't care if what she wore matched or was in style or any of that shit.

 

It was part of her charm. Yet, she wasn't sure if Peter's aunt would appreciate that charm. Peter said she was cool, but that was him talking. She had no reason not to believe him, but she wasn't about to take any chances. Besides, she really wanted to impresses Peter.

 

In the end, with her mom's help, she picked out a nice white blouse and a yellow skirt. She wasn't one to really ever wear skirts, like ever, but this time she made an exception.

 

It was nearing 7 PM when she set out for ~~her date with Peter~~ dinner with Peter and his aunt. On the way, she gave herself a mental pep talk. _Okay, MJ, don't fuck this up. Be yourself, but don't be an asshole. Don't be weird, and don't, and I mean abso-fucking-lutely do not insult Peter in front of his aunt. For the love of Christ, just don't._

 

She walked up to his apartment door and reached up to knock on the door. Her hand froze in place. What the hell? Why couldn't she knock on the door? _What if I fuck this up, too?_ For a second, she considered just turning around and going home. For a second, she wanted to text Peter that something more important came up and she couldn't make.

 

Before she could give it a second thought, the door opened. A brunette woman in awesomely retro glasses was on the other side, smile at her. “Ah, you must be MJ. Hi, I'm May, Peter's aunt.”

 

_Oh my god, she's so fucking hot._ “Hi, I'm MJ. Peter's friend from school.” It felt right and natural to say that she was Peter's friend. It would have felt even righter and more natural to say she was his _girl_ friend, but that would, with hope, come later. As she followed May inside, she had to take a moment to appreciate how attractive May was. Like, really attractive. It was instantly obvious why she wore those big glasses – to make herself seem older. Who would admit to finding an old woman hot?

 

No one with sense. Which was why MJ kept it to herself. “You're really pretty,” she blurted. Well.

 

The comment clearly too her by surprised. “Oh. Oh, thanks. I try.”

 

Michelle had gotten lucky. _I have to start thinking before I say stuff._ She always did. Her insults and sarcastic quips were incredibly well thought out and on point. All the nice stuff she was going to be saying tonight needed to be at the same level. She did not need to come across as an asshole, even if Peter knew she was one.

 

Speak of the devil, Peter appeared from down the hall. It was ridiculous how tight his shirts had gotten in the last year. He never seemed to work out, so what the hell? Was he going through some kind of growth spurt? Not that she minded; quite the opposite, in fact. It was getting very hard to concentrate on what was going on with those arms just bulging out of his sleeves.

 

“Hey, MJ. Glad you could make it.” He sounded genuine, and had a half smile on his face that she didn't find cute at all. It was just a normal, everyday kind of smile. Nothing special about it. Her chest getting all fluttery was weird, though.

 

“Well, I told you I'd be here, dork,” she said, completely out of habit.

 

The dinner May prepared was simple: baked chicken with creamy mash potatoes and green beans. No doubt simple because she kind of invited herself over at the last minute. She could feel bad about that later; now was the time to make an impression Peter would never forget.

 

She was going to flirt with him. Yep. Michelle Jones was going to do that thing she admitted she had no idea how to do. This time, she had helped. The wikiHow article “How to Let Someone Know You Like Them” was open on her phone. If she got stuck, she could just pretend to be reading a text and look up what to do next. It was the perfect plan.

 

Which meant she was going to fuck up somehow. _Positive thoughts. Think positive, MJ. You got this._ Flirting sounded simple, but it was actually hard; especially for someone like her, who never had any use for until right then. That actually worked against her. Peter had known her since junior high and she had never been the type to do anything overtly friendly, much less romantic. Her suddenly touching him, smiling, and winking would probably throw him off.

 

She didn't have a choice, though. She had literally tried pretty much everything else. Other than just telling him, of course. That wouldn't work, though.

 

May and Peter led her to the dinner table to sit while the former went to get the food ready. Perfect, they were alone. Michelle took a deep breath to steel herself for her upcoming theatrics. _Okay. You got this._ “So, Peter, nice place you got here,” she complimented.

 

“Thanks,” he replied with a small smile. “It's not much, but it's home, you know.”

 

“Yep.” She smiled. She tried her best to make it look genuine and warm.

 

Peter looked both confused and amused.

 

That... was a start? She knew what that look meant. It was him saying 'the fuck are you smile about? You never smile.' Which was a blatant lie; she smiled all the time. Then again, her smiles usually followed a sarcastic quip or cutting insult, but still.

 

“Did you hear about Chad?” he asked suddenly, referring to one of their classmates.

 

The smile diminished a little, but was still there. “That he got suspended for some shit he did in chem?”

 

“Yeah. For pretending he was making meth.” He shook with mirthful laughter.

 

She... his laugh was so... ugh. “Yeah, what an idiot.” She couldn't help but start laughing with him. It was so infectious. Her hand reached out to touch his. The article said she had to touch him. Not a lingering touch, but enough for him to notice her presence. She tried this at debate practice a few days ago, but that just... it didn't go well.

 

Her hand landed on top of his. Peter's laugh cut off abruptly while Michelle's continued unabated. He looked at her hand, then at her.

 

She looked at her hand, then at him.

 

They shared an awkward laugh as Peter slid his hand free from under hers.

 

Okay, that... wasn't a good sign. This shit wasn't working. She just couldn't go from being completely opposed to even the most elementary of friendly interactions to suddenly feeling him up and shit. It was still salvageable, but she was going to have to work for it.

 

Peter got up to wash up for dinner, which gave Michelle a chance to check the article for another thing to do. Touch herself.

 

> _More precisely, touch areas of the body that seem innocent while also hinting at intimacy. Touch your face or hair, or slowly stroke your own arm a bit. Use your tongue to moisten your lips every now and then. By touching yourself in ways like these, you can hint to the other person that you really wish they were touching you, instead._
> 
>  

Okay, she could do that. She touched herself every day. Even if she didn't interact with people in the friendliest of terms, she was very friendly with herself.

 

“Touch yourself.” Michelle's eyes widened to find Peter looking over her shoulder. “So, is that for later?” he said with a cheeky grin.

 

“Shut up,” she mumbled. How could she have been so careless? She was starting to get cold feet. But, she had to push through. This needed to be done if Peter was going to find out she had a crush on him. How else would he know?

 

“Then what are you reading?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

“Doesn't look like nothing.”

 

She shrugged. “I doubt you know what nothing looks like. Dweeb.”

 

“I know what Flash looks like.”

 

She snorted.

 

“You look nice, by the way.”

 

The comment took her completely by surprise, and it showed. She gently touched her cheek and could feel how warm it was. “I... thanks. You look nice, too.” _Alright. I have to find a chance to touch myself and have it seem natural. But, how? And why does that sound so pervy?_

 

“Thanks.” Peter smiled again and nudged her hand. She nudged him back.

 

May brought the food in and passed out plates. “Help yourselves, guys. And don't forget to kiss the cook.”

 

“Thanks, May. It all smells great,” Peter stated. He gestured for Michelle to help herself first.

 

She did, making sure to let her fingers linger on the back of his hand when he handed her a ladle to scoop the potatoes with. As before, he seemed put off by the touch.

 

“So, MJ, why don't you tell us about yourself?”

 

If May noticed her touching her nephew, she wasn't about to say anything about it. At least not while Michelle was there. She foresaw a very awkward conversation in Peter's immediate future. “Well, I'm a social activist,” she started. “I'm really big on exercising my first amendment right to peaceful assembly. You know, like, protesting.”

 

May nodded appreciatively, which put Michelle at ease. Not that she would have cared if she disagreed, but that would have made this more awkward than they already were. “That's great that your so active at a young age. Did you protest the accords? I saw a lot of people marching in DC right before they were ratified.”

 

“No. I actually think they're a good thing. The whole shi— ah, mess that accompanied them was... a thing.” And suddenly, she felt so much more at ease than she did a few minutes ago. Once she was prompted to talk about something that interested her, she was able to relax and unwind. Evidently, May noticed how uptight she was. Adults; they, like, had a seventh sense for this kind of shit.

 

Anyway, dinner proceeded nicely, with her and May talking about different world issues. They didn't agree on a few things, but it was okay, because May was the type to actually listen to other people's viewpoints instead of trying to hammer her point over Michelle's head.

 

Peter watched quietly, putting in his two cents when it seemed appropriate.

 

“That was all very good, May. Thanks for having me,” Michelle stated. She decided she liked May. She was cool, down-to-earth, and very pleasant to talk to. Very understanding, too.

 

“It was such a pleasure to finally meet you, MJ. Peter talks about you all the—”

 

“May!” Peter protested. He gave his aunt what he hoped was a dissuading look.

 

“Okay, okay. Never mind. It was nice meeting you.”

 

Holy crap, Peter talked about her to his aunt. Okay, Michelle. There was no need to jump to conclusions. It was probably in general, like how she was one of his classmates. There was no reason to assume he spoke of her in anything other than a friendly way. Certainly not because he had a crush on her and didn't know how to handle it, thus forcing him to approach his all-knowing aunt for advice. That certainly wasn't it.

 

“I-I'll see you at school tomorrow, dweeb,” she said to Peter, still shaken by the revelation.

 

“Y-yeah. See you.”

 

She just couldn't help herself. Before leaving, she lunged at him and wrapped her arms around his chest. Two things. One, his body was so fucking hard, her knees turned to jelly instantly. She wasn't so much hugging him at that point as she was holding herself up. Two, he wasn't hugging her back. He seemed frozen in place, actually.

 

“M-M-MJ... wha-what are you doing?”

 

“I...” What was she doing? Like, his aunt was right fucking there. She snuck a peak at the older woman and did indeed see barely contained joy. _Fuck me. To hell with it._ “I'm hugging you.”

 

“But, why?”

 

That was not the response she was expecting or even hoping to get. “Um, I don't know?”

 

“Could you... let go? Like, please?”

 

Neither was that. Slowly – out of both not wanting to separate from his sculpted muscles and out of embarrassment – she released his waist and backed away. Her eyes were glued to the floor as she fondled for the door handle. “I, uh, I'll see you tomorrow. At school. Peter.”

 

“Okay. MJ.”

 

Well, that was a complete bust. She could have ended it on a high note, but nope. She had to make a fool out of herself _again._ Why? There was, literally, no reason to. It was almost like she was subconsciously sabotaging herself.

 

Wait, was that it? _Was_ she sabotaging herself without even realizing it? That would explain a lot.

 


	4. The Phone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle learns that petty theft and destruction of another person's property are not good ways to show one's affection for that person.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said this in one of the comment replies last chapter, but I'll repeat it here. I'm planning on writing a companion story from Peter's perspective. Just one showing his POV during Michelle's misadventures in romance.

_**The Phone** _

 

Michelle stole Peter's phone. But honestly, stole wasn't quite the right word, and even if it was, she had a good reason. Two reasons, actually. One, she could take a few selfies of herself throwing up those stupid heart signs, or even record herself confessing her love for Peter. Either one of those options were acceptable. Two, she would totally look like a conquering hero when she returned his phone to him. Peter was very attached to his phone, much like every other teenager on the planet.

 

She felt bad, though. Petty theft wasn't the best way to convey her affection for someone, especially when they were the victim of her petty theft.

 

She excused herself to go to the restroom so she could do her deed. Why she chose the school bathroom and not wait until she got home was a simple. She didn't want to run the risk of something happening to Peter's phone. She had made a little progress at dinner the night before, and she didn't want any setbacks. Besides, girls took selfies in the restroom all the time. _Not me, though._ The times she regretted being so asocial were more frequent than many assumed, but none were as great as they were right then. She shuddered when she imagined the looks she would get if someone walked in on her snapping pictures of herself. _Maybe I should just wait until I get home._

 

She was already in the bathroom, so it was too late.

 

Peter had a code to unlock his phone, but fortunately she had been in close proximity when he unlocked it one time and wrote it down in Journal #134 – she wasn't obsessed with him, just very observant, and those observations needed to be written down.

 

She unlocked his phone. The background picture was of him and May. _Cute. Okay, how do I get to the camera._ She hit the wrong button by mistake and pulled up his picture gallery. Suddenly, a very bad and wrong temptation hit her like a sledgehammer. Could she really be considering actually going through his phone?

 

She stole away inside a stall and sat on the toilet. He had over three hundred downloaded pictures – none of which were porn, but the stupid memes he insisted on sending her – and over five hundred camera photos. Cautiously, as if afraid of what she was going to find, she opened the camera folder. The first five pictures were of him in nothing but a pair of tiger print boxer briefs.

 

Her brain stopped working.

 

If she ever doubted that God was real, she was staring at all the proof she needed, because there was no way a body like this happened by chance. Holy shit in a hand-basket.

 

She casually sent the pictures to her phone.

 

She scrolled a little more. Most were random shit. Pictures of May, pictures of Ned, pictures of different sights in the city, pictures of her.

 

Wait, what? Sure enough, there was a candid picture of Michelle on Peter's phone. That bastard had snapped a picture of her without her permission. Upon further inspection, it wasn't _a_ picture, but several. Over a hundred to be exact. “Son of a bitch. Taking pictures and shit without me knowing.”

 

She would rip him a new asshole over this later. She couldn't afford to be distracted. She had already been in the stall for over ten minutes. Their history teacher would probably become worried. Unlike most teachers, she actually gave a shit about her students and their futures. She was annoying like that.

 

 _Alright, enough of this._ She exited the gallery – but not before admiring Peter's cut six pack one last time – then tried to find the camera. She noticed that he had a message. Another temptation – this one more heinous than the last – overwhelmed her. She was, literally, about to invade his privacy and read his messages. Like, she needed to know what he thought of her after dinner last night. There was no doubt he talked to that dweeb Ned about it. She only hoped they texted and not actually talked on the phone. Like, who still did that, anyway?

 

She was in luck. They texted about it at length. She scrolled up until she was sure she found the beginning of the conversation.

 

> **Me:** Yo, MJ jus left
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** How'd it go???
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** It actually went pretty great. She
> 
> and may really hit it off
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned** : awesum. But how'd she behave around u?
> 
> Was she still weird??
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** yea :(
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** Wut happened
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** It started out fine but then
> 
> she kept tryin 2 touch me and shit.
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** ????
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** like tryin 2 grab my hand and stuff.
> 
> And she even smiled at me
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** smiled? Like a legit smile and
> 
> not like she was makin fun of you
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** yep. An get this. She even hugged me
> 
> b4 left
> 
> **Me: *** she left
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** WHAT
> 
> THE
> 
> FUCK
> 
> !!!!!
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** I KNOW RIGHT!
> 
> **Me:** I didn't even kno how to react like WTF
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** R u sure she wasn't tryin to kill u?
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** Ned come on man. MJ is different, but not
> 
> crazy. Anyway im really confused
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** about wat?
> 
>  
> 
> **Me:** Promise u wont say a word to anyone
> 
>  
> 
> **Ned:** I promise dude. Now wat is it??
> 
>  

Before Michelle could read any further, there was a succession of loud bangs on the bathroom stall door. She was startled and bobbled the phone. The world slowed down into slow motion as the phone slipped between her legs and fell in the toilet. “NOOOOOO!!!”

 

“Michelle?” called out one of her classmates, Cindy Moon.

 

“What?!” she stood, and immediately saw the phone sitting at the bottom of the toilet, resting at the mouth of the hole where all the shit was flushed down. She absolutely could not believe this had just happened. This was exactly what she was fucking afraid of. Why couldn't she have just done what she intended on doing right away and went back to class? Why did she have to get nosy and pry into Peter's private life?

 

What was worse, she didn't really like what she saw – pictures notwithstanding. Peter really was put off by all the touching. And the hug, like holy shit, what was she thinking? And the worst part was he was confused. She had been sending him mixed messages, just like she feared.

 

To top it all off, she had stolen his phone and accidentally dropped it in the toilet. Fuck her life.

 

“Mrs. Toller was getting worried,” Cindy replied.

 

She wanted to tell Cindy to fuck off, but she was just an innocent bystander. “I just dropped my phone in the toilet. Fuck off, Moon.”

 

“Oh. Sorry.” Her hurried footsteps grew fainter until they disappeared out into the hall.

 

Michelle sighed and stuck her hand into the disgust, _cold_ toilet water to fish the phone out. As she feared, it was completely water-logged. Like, it wasn't salvageable at all. “This can't be happening.” She wanted to cry, but it was so cliché to cry in the girl's restroom. She would wait until she got home.

 

“Peter's gonna be so pissed.”

 

In hindsight, the idea was stupid. How would stealing someone's property, then invading their privacy infer romantic affection for said person? This wasn't a movie or one of those unrealistic slow burn fanfictions. It was real life; and in real life, this was the kind of shit that caused friendships to crumble. With one as flimsy as hers and Peter's, there was little doubt that he wouldn't want anything to do with her.

 

“Here's your phone,” she announced morosely after school. She had just managed to catch Peter and Ned on their way to the subway. She had the sense to dry it off, but it wouldn't have done any good. There wasn't even any rice in the cafeteria, so she couldn't use that to get the water out of the interior. She had fucked up, big time.

 

“Holy shit, thanks, MJ!” he chirped graciously. His smile fell away instantly when he tried to turn the screen on, only for it to not respond. “What happened to it?”

 

“I,” she started before sighing, “I found it in the toilet.” The least she could do to try and save herself was lie and blame it on someone else. Some random person that, with hope, Peter and May wouldn't find.

 

“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “This is my only phone. May's gonna freak.”

 

“Don't you have insurance, dude?” Ned asked.

 

“Yeah, but that's not the point.” There was more to it than May being upset. That much she could gather from his tone and the look he gave Ned. Ned nodded in understanding, which only solidified her suspicion.

 

“Yeah, well, sucks. I'll see you tomo—”

 

“Hey, Michelle,” Cindy called out as she ran up to her. “Did you get your phone out of the toilet?”

 

Michelle could have killed Cindy. If looks could kill, Cindy would have been vaporized by her caustic glare.

 

“Wait, what?” Peter whispered. “MJ.”

 

She wanted to just disappear. She was a master at it, but not when Peter was looking dead at her. Usually, she just walked away, but her legs refused to move.

 

“Michelle.”

 

Slowly, she turned her head back to Peter, and holy shit was he pissed. “Yeah?”

 

“Did you take my phone?” he inquired, voice scarily calm and slow.

 

Her heart was pounding. The world started to spin. She hoped she would faint, as that would take his attention off her massive fuck up. Her mouth opened to answer, but no words came out. What could she say? Yes? Okay, but she had no reason or explanation. Well, she did, but a confession of her love was totally not appropriate at the moment.

 

In the end, she said nothing. That was all the answer Peter needed.

 

His face shifted from calm, to anger, to seething anger, to something unreadable, and then back to anger in the span of ten seconds. It scared her. He had never been angry with her before. Even with all the times she insulted him, called him an idiot, loser, nerd, dork, dweeb, and questioned his intelligence, he never got angry.

 

Seeing him so upset tore her apart, because it was her fault. It was all her fault.

 

Peter said nothing, instead just turning around and walking away. Ned gave her a disappointed glance and walked after him, shaking his head.

 

That was worse than if he would have tore into her. There was so much she knew he wanted to say, but didn't. For whatever reason, he kept it all to himself. She knew he was going to resent her for this for a very, very long time. It wasn't the theft or ruining his phone. It was the fact that she did it while claiming to be his friend.

 

_I'm a complete asshole. And an idiot. But, mostly an asshole._

 

“Wow. Peter's really pissed,” Cindy commented.

 

“Moon,” she ground out through gritted teeth. “I'm going to start counting. If you're still here when I get to ten, I'm going to fucking murder you. One. Two. Seven. Eight.” Cindy – poor Cindy – got the message and beat a hasty exit toward the subway, leaving Michelle alone.

 

_Well, I guess I'm just not cut out for this romance shit anyway._

 


	5. Tiger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The moment we've all been waiting for. Michelle learns that honesty is always the best policy, and Peter learns the hard way why you shouldn't brag about your associates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little angst for you guys, free of charge.

_**Tiger** _

 

Michelle tried for two days to get Peter to talk to her. Nothing doing. He wouldn't answer her phone calls, texts, or emails. May said she was instructed not to let her in – she wasn't angry with Michelle, but very disappointed and it showed.

 

All she wanted was a chance to apologize, to say she was sorry and let Peter get everything off his chest. She knew it was there. The looks he gave her could only be described as acrimonious. If looks could indeed kill, Michelle would have needed a closed casket funeral.

 

Eventually, she just gave up. She had to live with the realization that she completely fucked up any chance at being with Peter. On the outside, she made it look like she didn't care. On the inside, it was killing her. He was such a genuinely kind and caring person. Basically everything she pretended not to be. She guessed she really didn't believe that someone like him could really like someone like her, so she decided to sabotage herself so she couldn't get her heart broken.

 

_Noble motive, brain. Still a dick move._

 

Michelle didn't have any friends; no one liked her enough to give it a try. Ned and Peter could only be described as close acquaintances at best. This shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, yet, it was the most painful thing she had ever gone through.

 

She went through the motions for the next two weeks. Not to say she was enthusiastic about most of her classes normally, but she had no reason to get excited to go to school each day. She had four classes with Peter and every one of them was hell. He wouldn't look at her. Not to glare, stare, or anything. Every time she looked his direction, he was looking in some other direction. After the bell rang, he was the first one out.

 

 _Well, at least I have these pictures._ She stared at the pictures of Peter in those tiger print boxer briefs every day, mostly before she went to bed. It was a constant, painful reminder of what she could have had if she had just told him how she really felt in the beginning. Literally none of what followed after she wrote that letter to him weeks ago would have happened if she had just said five words. 'Peter, I really like you.'

 

One night, while staring at the third picture, in which he was flexing, she decided on a new petname for him. Tiger. It was so cute and not at all something Michelle would ever call him, but that was okay because he was never going to speak to her again. That was also okay, because she was an asshole who didn't deserve friends.

 

She cried herself to sleep that night.

 

The next day, on a whim, Michelle spent their history class sketching a picture of Peter smiling. He had the cutest smile. Her heart crumbled to pieces when she realized that she would never see him smile again. At least at her.

 

She wrote 'Tiger' under the sketch, folded it into a paper airplane, and threw it at him. The teacher saw, but didn't see who through it, as she ducked down as soon as it left her hand. “Let's be young adults, guys,” she reprimanded.

 

Peter sighed loudly. She peeked over at him and saw him writing something on the paper.

 

After class was let out, he left the paper on his desk. Michelle took that as a sign and casually picked it up. 'I'm tired of this, Michelle. Meet me after school.'

 

It... was a start? At least he was communicating with her. She still had a chance to fix things. Even if there was no chance of her crush being realized, at least they could be friends again. That was the most important thing to her. She never thought of it before because they were always there, but being around Ned and Peter made her feel normal. It made her feel wanted. Ever since she destroyed his phone, they had been sitting at another table. Since no one else liked her, she ended up sitting by herself. Of course, she made it seem like she was just fine with that. She had her books, she was fine.

 

Really, it was like a hole had been ripped in her heart and there was no one there to fill it. She wanted her almost friends back, and this was her chance to do it.

 

She spent the rest of the school day thinking about what she was going to say to Peter. An apology was first and foremost, obviously. After that, she basically decided to play off of what he said. _Here goes nothing._

 

The last bell of the day sounded, sending her heart into overdrive. The moment of truth was upon her. The fate of her friendship with Peter hung in the balance. She prayed that she didn't mess up like she had everything else. If there was one thing she had to get right, it was this right here. This was her last chance.

 

She sat one a bench in the courtyard waiting for him to arrive. He never specified a meeting place, so she just picked a spot and sat down. Minutes later, she spotted him walking up to her. Alone. _Great,_ she thought with a sigh. She tried to look like her normal aloof self, but failed miserably. The nervousness she was feeling was clearly written all over her face.

 

Peter stopped when he was within five feet of her. “Hi.”

 

“Hey.”

 

He didn't look angry. Tired, actually. Then again, Peter kinda always looked tired. It was actually very interesting. She wondered what he was spending all of his free time on. The Stark internship was over and he wasn't working. Certainly not decathlon, since he had been skipping practices the last few weeks.

 

Hmm.

 

Before he could speak again, she blurted, “I'm sorry. About everything.”

 

His expression didn't change, which meant that he had been expecting that.

 

“Look, I'm an asshole. It's okay to say it, Tiger.” Whoops. She hadn't meant to call him that.

 

His brows creased in confusion. “What did you call me?”

 

“T-Tiger.”

 

“Why?”

 

“It... it's my pet name for you,” she answered meekly. She suddenly really regretted saying anything further. At least without thinking on it first.

 

“Pet na— enough! I'm... Enough, Michelle.” Peter let out a frustrated growl and roughly raked his hands through his hair. It looked so cute but that was hardly an appropriate thought to have when he was about to start yelling at her. “What is wrong with you? Why are you acting so weird?”

 

There was only one correct answer to those questions. The truth. It was right on the tip of her tongue, but she just couldn't allow herself to say it. “I... I'm not.”

 

“Yes, you are!” He took a step forward. “Okay, telling me to get out of your school and punching me in the chest are things you would probably do. But, what about dinner at my place that one time? How do you explain trying to touch me and fucking hugging me?! You don't hug anyone. Ever. I'm pretty sure you don't even hug your parents.”

 

That... okay, that was mostly true, but she still took offense to it. Still, she refused to tell him. Telling him that she liked him would get him off her back and clear everything else up, but what else would it accomplish? Nothing. Therefore, she wouldn't say it.

 

Peter stared at her, jaw clenched noticeably. His eyes bored mercilessly into her, a clear attempt at trying to penetrate her impenetrable visage to see what she was hiding.

 

She wouldn't let him. “There's nothing wrong with me, Parker. Just drop it.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because you're confusing me!” he yelled. “It's like one minutes you kind of like me, the next you hate my guts, and I'm sick of it! I'm tired of staying up at night trying to decode all the stupid looks and little hints you keep dropping that are immediately contradicted the next fucking day! I mean, you hug me and act like you enjoy my company, then you steal my fucking phone and drop it in the toilet the very next day.”

 

“I didn't drop it on purpose,” she corrected unhelpfully. Heaven forbid he make her out to be a complete monster.

 

“It doesn't matter! Do you like me?! Do you hate me?! What? Tell me, Michelle!”

 

His emotional outburst took her aback. She had never seen him this angry, this confused, this... hurt? He was so confused, he was hurting? She could understand. He just wanted to be her friend, and one day she drew him in, the next she pushed him away.

 

For his sake, she had to tell him the truth. She was pretty sure he would go insane if she didn't.

 

Her mouth opened, but some small part of her resisted still. Then, in the smallest, meekest, most non-Michelle Jones voice ever, she said it. “I...I like you.”

 

She barely heard it, but Peter did. His anger and frustration evaporated like a puddle in the desert. He said nothing, but moved to sit down next to her. “Well, everything makes sense now,” he said after several moments of silence.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Why didn't you just tell me?”

 

There was that question again. “I didn't think it would make a difference.”

 

“Of course it would have. I mean, at least I would have known instead of having to guess and decipher all of your hints and stuff.”

 

“You mean you didn't figure it out when I randomly hugged you that one time?” She flashed a half-smile.

 

He smiled back. “In hindsight, that was pretty obvious. But, I'm, like, not the sharpest guy out there when it comes to this stuff. I've never had a girlfriend before.”

 

An interesting comment, that. It almost sounded like Peter was about to confess his love for her and ask her to be his girlfriend or some shit. “You're not about to ask me to be your girlfriend, are you?”

 

“No! No, of course not,” he answered hurriedly.

 

“Good. 'Cause I'd say no.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

She shrugged. “I'm not girlfriend material.”

 

“Wait, shouldn't _I_ be the one to determine that?”

 

“No.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Now that the truth was out, Michelle felt a lot better about herself. Peter seemingly forgave her since he was still there and talking to her. Everything was back to normal. Except for the small little bit that he knew she had a crush on him. That would probably make things weird when she started looking at him funnily at random moments. Ah, well. “Well, I got shit to do. Catch you later, Tiger.” Damn it. There she went again.

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He put his arm out to stop her from getting up. As a consequence, his hand pressed against her thigh. Her cheeks started burning. “Seriously, where did this 'Tiger' business come from?”

 

“Oh.” Now she had one more confession to make. “I... may or may not have seen those pictures of you in your underwear.” Her face split into a huge grin when his face went pale. “Pretty hot, actually.”

 

“You... you went through my phone?” Panic was rising in his voice by the second.

 

“Maybe.”

 

“No, tell me.”

 

“Yeah,” she drawled. “I mean, I only saw the texts of you and Ned,” his face drained of all color, “talking about me after our dinner, and those pictures.” She suddenly remembered something. “And all those fucking pictures you took of me. Asshole.”

 

She assumed that was what he was so scared of, but when the panic suddenly dissipated, she had her doubts. “Oh. That.”

 

“Yeah. That. Wanna explain? What? Tell me, Peter!” she said, mocking his earlier theatrics.

 

“I... well, I... you see, I... um... ah... heh... I... think you're pretty,” he answered shyly, his previously pale face growing bright red. “I take pictures of pretty things.”

 

Wait, what? She was confused and her face showed it. _Peter thinks I'm pretty?_ She was attractive, in a very natural sense. She didn't wear makeup, didn't change her hairstyle, and didn't wear any jewelry outside of stud earrings and a necklace sometimes. No perfume, fancy clothes, or expensive purses, either. If he found that attractive, that was just fine, she supposed. “Oh, really? A hundred pictures, though? A girl could start to think you're obsessed.” She smirked when his stammering continued.

 

“I'm... I'm not obsessed. Just very... observant?” Her eyes narrowed. “I mean, if you'd let me take a picture of you, then I wouldn't have had to take that many.”

 

“You're not about to blame me for your stalking habits, Parker.”

 

“I'm not blaming you. And I wasn't stalking you,” he protested. “I was just taking pictures of you without your knowledge. That's hardly stalking.”

 

“That's, like, the textbook definition.”

 

He scoffed and waved her off dismissively. “As if you're one to talk.” She raised a challenging eyebrow. “Need I remind you of the twenty voicemails you left me over a two week period months ago.”

 

Oh, shit. She had forgotten about those.

 

“Or the fourteen messages. Or the ten voicemails you left me two weeks ago.”

 

“I was trying to get your attention so you'd let me talk to you,” she explained in a comically reasonable voice, considering what they were talking about. “That's hardly the same thing.”

 

“Sure it isn't.”

 

She scoffed. “The pictures have all been destroyed, so this is all moot, anyway.”

 

“Actually, Ned managed to salvage about half of them,” he replied. The grin he gain was the epitome of smug.

 

“Give me your phone,” she demanded, deadpan.

 

He handed it over without hesitation.

 

It was a nice one. Sleek silver with black highlights down the sides. A wide screen, no visible buttons. Very futuristic. “Nice phone. I'm gonna go drop this in the toilet.” She stood to do exactly that.

 

“Go ahead. It's waterproof.”

 

“Then, I'm gonna drop it from the highest building I can find.”

 

“Shatterproof.”

 

“Then, I'm gonna smash it with a hammer.”

 

“Gorilla glass.”

 

“Then, I'll just delete them.” She tried to unlock the phone, but was denied access immediately.

 

“Biometric lock.”

 

Seriously? “The fuck kind of phone is this?”

 

“A Starkphone.” His smug grin persisted.

 

“How'd you manage to get one of these? I thought only SI employees had access to them.”

 

“Oh, you know. One of the many, many perks of being a personal friend of Tony Stark.” He exhaled on his nails and shined them on his shirt. “Me and T-Money are pretty tight, actually.”

 

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really. You are friends with _the_ Tony Stark?”

 

“Did I stutter?”  
  


“How?”

 

“How what?”

 

“How are you, a fifteen year old high school student, friends with Tony Stark? How would you have even met him?” she questioned, folding her arms over her chest.

 

“I... the Stark internship, obviously. He came over my house one day to offer it to me personally.”

 

“Oh, yeah. And that somehow led to you becoming 'tight' with him. 'Tight' enough for him to give you that advanced phone that's like something the Avengers would need to use?” Her other eyebrow raised to accompany its companion.  
  


“Well, yeah. All SI employees have them.”

 

“Which, you are not. Your internship ended months ago.”

 

“But, Mr. Stark _did_ give me that phone,” he insisted petulantly. It was so cute.

 

“Oh, I believe you. But, he would, at best, give you a very basic phone. Because that's all a high school kid like you would need. So, tell me, what would a high school student like you need with a waterproof, shatterproof phone with a gorilla glass screen that can only be unlocked with your fingerprints? Peter.” Her lips curled into a smug smirk when the color drained from his face again.

 

“I... I gotta go!” He snatched the phone from her hand and sprinted away. “Bye, MJ! I'll see you tomorrow!”

 

“Later!” she called after him. She waited until he was gone before smirking to herself. “Spider-Man.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. Everything is all out in the open. And Peter is the absolute worst at keeping his secret a secret.


	6. The Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michelle confronts Peter about being Spider-Man. The meeting ends in the best way possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end of the road, guys. Thanks so much for all the support you've given this story. You don't know how much you inspired me to get these chapters out so quickly.

_**The Bear** _

 

Michelle was still buzzing later that night. In a lot of ways, the talk they had that afternoon felt like a dream. She couldn't believe she told Peter she had a crush on him, and yet, it was the best decision she had made in weeks. Despite her apprehension initially, she had zero regrets.

 

However, that was not the reason why she was so excited. For someone so smart, Peter was a major imbecile. He practically told her that he was Spider-Man. He didn't quite admit it, which was why she didn't call him out on it right then and there. She needed hard, concrete proof before she confronted him.

 

The nerve of Peter, keeping this secret from her while criticizing her for being so evasive with her feelings, all the while keeping a secret _this_ major from her for months. She thought they were friends, and yet, she didn't know him at all.

 

Well, that was all about to change.

 

She stayed up late gathering evidence and doing research. She recorded each date Peter left school early in a journal. Dating all the way back to freshman year, every time he ditch school, Spider-Man showed up during school hours. Then, there was the fact that Spider-Man was in DC the day he saved her friends from the elevator. He was notorious for being a local hero, yet there he was, in DC. Where Peter just so happened to be also.

 

Peter and Spider-Man were also the same height, approximately the same weight, and the same build. The most damning evidence came in the form of known audio samples of Spider-Man speaking. She compared these to videos where Peter was speaking. Just going by the ear test alone, one in the fucking same.

 

Michelle smirked triumphantly. She had cracked the case. She solved the mystery every hotshot, intrepid journalist from the Daily Bugle to the New York Times had been trying to solve for months. Who the fuck was Spider-Man under the mask? None other than Peter goddamn Parker.

 

“Gotcha, bitch.”

 

The next day, Michelle played it cool. Peter was obviously nervous around her during their first class together, but she pretended the conversation – or at least the half she knew he was anxious about – didn't happen. “Sup, loser,” she greeted him whenever he approached her. This seemed to calm him down, and the rest of the day went without a hitch.

 

Little did he know, however, that she had a big surprise waiting in store for him. A trap she planned on springing when he least expected it.

 

She waited until that night to set her plan into motion. She went up to the roof of her apartment building in Queens and waited. In her hand was a rectangular box with a little present for the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

 

She was a little nervous. This present wasn't just for Spider-Man, but Peter, too. It was the first time since before she confessed that she would be doing one of those stupid displays of affection. The others backfired in degrees varying from hilarious to cringe-worthy. They were starting off on a new foot, but she didn't want that new beginning to be marred by yet another fuck up. This, she felt, was going to go well, though.

 

Then again, she thought the letter would go well and it turned out to be a bust.

 

“Come on, where are you?” she muttered. There was a slight breeze in the air that night. She used her thumb to sweep an errant curl behind her ear. The next moment, she saw him swinging her way. _So fucking cool._ She waved an arm to get his attention. “Hey, Spidey! Down here!” She could have sworn she saw his shoulders slump, but paid it no mind.

 

He swung around a nearby flagpole and landed with a theatrical flair. “Uh, good evening, fair citizen,” he greeted in what had to be the hokiest accent she had ever heard. “How may I assist you?”

 

She couldn't stop the grin from forming. That suit he was wearing just... it just fit so... ugh! “Sup, Spidey. Oh, I don't need any help. I just wanted to give you this.” She held the box out.

 

It was clear he was taken aback. “Oh? Oh, well, thanks. I appreciate it.” He took the box, his gloved fingers gently sliding down the length of her hand. Goosebumps formed where there was contact made. “Let's see what we got here.”

 

Contained within the box was a white teddy bear holding a big, red heart. It was totally gag worthy and vomit inducing, but it was the only thing she could think of that wouldn't immediately result in failure.

 

“I...” Spider-Man was completely speechless. He took the bear out and held it up to look at it. His eyes widened, which Michelle decided was more cool than adorable. Besides, she didn't use words like adorable, so the point was moot. “Thank you,” he said genuinely, though it definitely sounded like there was more left to be said. “But, I'm afraid I don't understand. Don't you think your boyfriend or husband would like something like this more?”

 

_Idiot._ “Read the card. It'll clear everything up.”

 

He did so. It read, 'You really suck at secret identities ^_^ <3' The heart was completely sappy, but she was in a mood at the time, so yeah.

 

Spider-Man didn't say anything for a very long time. For a second, she thought he was angry again. That was until he raised his head to look at her, eyes narrowed. “I think there's been a mistake, miss.”

 

She smirked knowingly. “Cut the shit, Parker. I know it's you.”

 

His eyes widened as he sputtered in complete shock. “I... how?! How did you—”

 

“You really need a voice filter for that mask of yours. You still sound like a fifteen year old boy.” She sauntered up to him, playfully smirking. “I gotta hand it you, dork. You really had everyone fooled. Everyone thought all this time that you were just a complete flake, but look at you. A superhero.”

 

“MJ, please. You can't say anything to anyone! This is all I have. If anyone finds out, you, Ned, and May are gonna be in big trouble!”

 

“Relax, Tiger. I'm not a snitch. My lips are sealed.” She stopped a few feet from him. Nothing was said; she just stared at him, unknowingly smiling giddly. “I can't believe I'm friends with fucking Spider-Man.”

 

“Yeah.” He pulled his mask off, confirming beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was in fact the wall-crawler. “So...” He held the bear up. “For me or Spider-Man?”

 

Her cheeks grew red hot. “Uh, you.” Suddenly, the tiles on the roof became very interesting.

 

“I like it,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Not something I'd expect from you.”

 

That was good. That was very good. Both him liking it and not expecting it from her.

 

“I feel bad, though,” he continued. “I didn't get you anything.”

 

She scoffed dismissively. “You didn't have to. Not like you knew or anything.”

 

“Yeah, well. Be right back.” He handed her the bear, then pulled his mask on and leaped off the roof. She ran to the edge and just managed to catch him swinging around the corner two blocks away.

 

“Christ, he's fast.”

 

She waited a few minutes until he returned with a box of his own. “Here you go.”

 

“You really didn't have to,” she muttered. Even still, her heart was racing as she opened the box to find a simple red, heart-shaped pillow inside. Her mouth opened. She damn near 'awwed', but held back to save face. “W-wow.” She was speechless. No one outside of her parents had bought her anything before. It was so simple, yet so sweet. “Thank you, dork,” she said, with so much affection held with the word dork that it didn't even sound like an insult.

 

“That's not even the best part,” he uttered softly. He had pulled his mask off again, so she could see his sheepish smile and the bright red blush that had overtaken his cheeks.

 

He turned the pillow over to reveal the message 'I love you'.

 

Her brain was a little slow to comprehend the implications of such a message. Slowly, she caught up to speed. A soft gasp escaped her throat, much to her chagrin. “Peter...”

 

“I mean, it's probably not a big deal to you, but I thought it was appropriate,” he explained while scratching the back of his head. He tried desperately to sound suave, and failed miserably.

 

“I love it,” she said softly.

 

“I'm glad,” he said, just as softly.

 

Their gazes met and remained locked together.

 

Right then, Michelle had the incredible urge to do something very, _very_ stupid. It was a thing that threatened to turn her life upside down, pardon the cliché. But, it just seemed so right. Emotions and hormones were running high. Peter was right there, standing right in front of her. He had just admitted that he liked her as much as she liked him. Kissing him was the perfect thing to do, right?

 

Right.

 

She bit her lip reticently and leaned down. Her lips met Peter's. Softly, nothing more than a gentle peck on the mouth. That gentle peck sent a burst of fire through her entire body. Her entire being, her essence, felt like it was caught in a burning inferno that was impossible to put out.

 

Their lips separated, and she made the mistake of looking into his eyes after opening hers. They were staring back at her, the brown orbs filled with some emotion that she wasn't experienced enough to recognize.

 

“Wow,” he whispered breathlessly.

 

“Yeah. Wow.”

 

They stayed that way for a few more seconds, staring into each other's eyes and wearing the same dumb, goofy smiles. On any other day, this would have been painfully awkward. It may have been, if anyone was able to see them on the rooftop of Michelle's apartment building. To them, though, it was anything but. To them, it was the perfect ending to an amazing night. The reward for finally being honest and up front with one another.

 

“I, uh, I have to go,” Peter spoke, which broke the comfortable silence before it did indeed pass over into awkward.

 

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Okay.” She gave him another quick, but tight hug, the second one she had ever given. She stepped back and watched him slip his mask on, then waved goodbye when he dove off the roof, teddy bear in his grip.

 

She was still in a daze. The night really couldn't have gone any better. As she walked back inside and headed down to her apartment, she looked at the heart-shaped pillow Peter gave her. It was a touching gift she hadn't been expecting. There was no reason to assume that more like it wouldn't follow, but this one would always be special; and not just because of the message stitch on it.

 

Michelle didn't know what would come from tonight. She didn't know if they would continue to grow closer as friends until, eventually, they fell in love. They may very well have decided to remain good friends. Whatever the future held in store, she was sure she would be ready. Emotions were hard to understand – that much she found out the hard way – but she was plenty smart enough to figure them out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that. Thanks again for all the support, guys :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11587587) by [Sub_Zero_MKA](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sub_Zero_MKA/pseuds/Sub_Zero_MKA)




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